Bolus To The Bow



By callous caitiff,

his vessel, once unbroken,

lies scuppered, hapless

sapling of the tree it used to be,

scuttled by unshaven

problems spoken,

flotsam now, wincing

in accumulated debris.

Truckloads of this cargo

dumped, his token,

bolus to the bow, hard to swallow,

pithy points of view,

rictus grin was held

till hold was choking,

sunken by canonical

coordinates untrue.